We Lost a Dream We Never Had
by HilsonMarvey27
Summary: Tony faces a case that's a little too personal. With Wendy -his ex-fiance- dead, a few skeletons are revealed that he'd rather not anyone knew about...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Not sure this is any good, but this idea has been running circles in my head since I rewatched 'Baltimore' a few weeks ago…anyway, title sucks am open to suggestions for a new one…please…Well, here's Chapter 1…**

Tony looked around the bullpen. So far, he was the only one there. That night he had gone out drinking because of what happened ten years ago yesterday. That day was the day his fiancé, Wendy, broke up with him. All because he had accepted a job at NCIS without consulting her first. Well, everyone knows that once a couple starts fighting, it's no longer just about the topic that started it, but everything that annoys them.

Tony sighed. That day marked the end of one of the best things that happened to him, and the start of another. So he came in early this morning to drown himself in paperwork when it became too early to drown himself in alcohol.

"Why are you here so early?" McGee asked as he and Ziva walked into the bullpen.

"Yes, Tony, why _are _you in early?" Ziva narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Gibbs then came out of the elevator, coffee in hand, and he walked straight to his desk.

After a few seconds of Ziva and McGee looking at Tony inquisitively while he pretended to do paperwork, and Gibbs watching wordlessly from his desk, Gibbs phone rang. Gibbs then hung up the phone and began grabbing his gear.

"Grab your gear, we're going to Baltimore."

As his team began walking behind him towards the elevators, Gibbs didn't miss the way Tony grimaced at the word 'Baltimore'.

When Team Gibbs arrived at the crime scene, they all got out of the car and began walking towards the victim's house. Tony was walking behind the others, trying not to think about how this house greatly resembled his and Wendy's.

He must have shut his eyes for a second, because he ended up walking right into Ziva's back. He muttered a quick apology, trying not to flinch under the scrutinizing gaze she placed on him.

He barely heard Gibbs' order to sketch the scene and just took out his pencil and notebook as an answer. When he walked further in the room, he saw the victim's body. Young, female, long hair—

"No…no…it's not…" Tony realized he must have been thinking out loud.

When he looked around everything began to blur. He couldn't see straight…since when was he kneeling? Who was holding onto his arms…A voice brought him back to his senses.

"_DiNozzo?_" Gibbs' voice was tinged with concern, not a tone one usually hears from Gibbs. "What's wrong?"

His tongue felt like it weighed a million pounds, but somehow he was able to reply, albeit a little shakily.

"It's…Wendy…" Tony could feel the tears forming and willed them away.

"Who's Wendy?" Gibbs pressed on, concerned for his SFA and wondering who this woman was to get Tony to react this way.

"My…ex-fiancé…" Tony was able to utter before his vision clouded again, and he was taken over by unconsciousness.

Gibbs and McGee, who were holding Tony up before he fell again, gently laid him on his back.

Gibbs then stepped back.

Fiancé? When the hell did that happen? Tony barely got out of work enough to have a social life at all, let alone a fiancé! Was this _before _working at NCIS? More importantly, how the hell did they not know?

McGee, too, had stepped back after laying Tony down.

Fiancé? What the _hell?_ Tony's been afraid of commitment ever since Jeanne. Why would he get engaged? When was this? What the hell's going on.

Ducky and Ziva shared similar thoughts and only Palmer knew.

Even though not many knew, Tony and Palmer had grown quite close since Gibbs left for Mexico. Even after all this time, they still trusted each other the most. They'd be each other's refuge after a tough case or just a bad day. They were best friends – they told each other everything.

All Palmer knew, however, was that her name was Wendy, they were engaged prior to and at the beginning of Tony working at NCIS, and that she has emailed him ever since they broke up. Tony had explained how even though they were no longer together, they would meet up once and a while and talk. Catch up. They tried not to drift apart. He _also_ knew that she was going to meet with Tony in the next few days, to ask him 'something important about us', she had said.

Palmer knew that this meant that while Tony was unconscious, he would have to explain things. He knew Tony asked him not to tell anyone, but he should probably at least tell Gibbs.

Palmer sighed.

This was not going to be a good case for anyone.

**A/N: Continue? Not sure if this is any good…my muses are exhausted from me, I annoy the shit out of them…anyway, please REVIEW!  
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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am dedicating this to a friend to all who knew him – Brother James Kelly - who passed away this morning. He was the President of a high school my family loves and is a big part of. May he rest in peace.**

As the Ducky began to examine Tony to make sure he wasn't injured and was simply in extreme shock or was over exhausted, Palmer spoke up.

"H-her name's Wendy…" As soon as he spoke, everyone in the room's head's swiveled toward his, causing him to blush slightly.

He continued.

"She and Tony were e-engaged around the time Tony began working at NCIS…" Palmer could feel all the eyes in the room on him but took a deep breath and continued.

"They never really stopped talking after they…broke up. The only other thing I know is that they were meeting in a few days because she had to tell Tony something important." Palmer finished quickly, anxious to get everyone's eyes off him.

The team thought about what they were told.

Tony.

Tony DiNozzo.

Tony DiNozzo was once engaged.

They each had various theories as to why they broke it off but none knew for sure. They had _many_ questions to ask Tony.

Ducky slowly stood up straight again.

"Well, our poor boy just seems to be suffering from a combination of things – none serious. Just shock, exhaustion, and from the smell of alcohol still in his breath – a bad hangover. He should be physically fine when he wakes up.

"His emotional or mental state, however, aren't going to be so lucky. He's going to be very emotionally strained from a case like this – I think we should all watch over him as best we can."

With that, Ducky began walking back to the van, with Palmer in tow, for the gurney to carry out Wendy's body.

The team's eyes all averted back to Tony a few minutes later, when they caught movement from him. He was probably waking.

Tony slowly came to. He hadn't opened his eyes yet, but the fact that the surface he was laying on was hard, and not his soft – okay, kinda hard but softer than this – mattress told him he wasn't on his bed.

Strange. He remembered his dream really clearly, well I guess nightmare. Why had his subconscious chosen to have Wendy die in his dream? Damn, subconscious…

He opened his eyes to see three pairs of concerned eyes looking down at him. He slowly raised an eyebrow at this.

Then it hit him.

It wasn't a dream.

Wendy couldn't be dead. She couldn't. They were going to meet again in two days. He could feel himself begin to hyperventilate and willed himself to stop.

Not now.

Wendy needs him.

He can save his pathetic emotional breakdown for _after_ the case was solved. He would find the sick bastard who murdered Wendy and arrest him or – if he was lucky – but a bullet through his skull.

He slowly sat up and felt a wave of nausea pass through him. He shut his eyes tightly to force back the bile that threatened to overwhelm him. After a few seconds he stood but swayed the second he was upright. One second he was falling, the next his head was pressed to Gibbs' chest and Gibbs' hands were on his shoulders steadying him.

Tony muttered, "Thanks, boss." as he righted himself.

He could feel all the eyes in the room on him so he decided he would just busy himself with his work.

A few seconds after resuming his work, Gibbs gently put his hand on the back of Tony's neck in a sign of affection, before resuming his work as well.

Once Gibbs began, the others began their work as well – except McGee.

"Are…you okay, Tony? Working this case?" McGee questioned softly.

Tony turned around, and even McGee could tell that the wide smile on Tony's face was obviously forced and just one of Tony's masks – even if this one was transparent and greatly flawed.

"I'm fine, McGee…" Tony's smile faded as he finished his sentence in a whisper. "I just want to kill the sick, son of a bitch who killed Wendy."

Gibbs knew Tony needed this. Tony was the type of person who couldn't just wait for answers – he had to get them himself. He knew that he should "technically" take him off the case because of personal involvement, but he couldn't do that to Tony. Not for this.

He also knew, that when they found out who the murderer was, someone would have to be with Tony at _all_ times. He didn't want Tony killing the guy – well he did, but he didn't want Tony to get suspended or worse, because of revenge. He knew it made you think irrationally but he promised himself right then and there, that he would be there for Tony. He trusted the others that they would be there, too. Tony needed them.

When they finished processing the scene, Tony and McGee took the van back to the office as Gibbs and Ziva took the car.

As he drove, McGee kept sneaking glances at Tony.

He couldn't help but be worried for him. Tony was like an older brother to him. As annoying as he got, when he was quiet and withdrawn it made him anxious for Tony to make a joke at his expense, call him Probie, or another usually annoying nickname.

McGee sighed. He didn't want to have to question Tony about Wendy but he knew they would have to. No one would want to do it, but it would be done.

They needed to catch Wendy's killer – quickly.

This was going to be emotionally stressful for Tony, but they would be there for him.

They always were.

**A/N: Not that important a chapter but I think it's kinda necessary. Anyway, what did you guys think?**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated in a while I kinda lost inspiration for it for well, a while. So I thought this up this morning and decided to write it down as soon as I could.**

**Enjoy!~**

Wendy's cause of death had been multiple knife wounds. She had one in the abdomen, one in the left shoulder, and, the final one, in the heart.

It pained Tony when he realized she didn't have an instantaneous death, it was a long and agonizing one. It was times like these that Tony hated his job. Normally, he liked his job – loved it even. But when someone you knew was murdered, kidnapped, attacked, etc., it just made him wish he didn't have such a dangerous profession. Loved ones were always at risk of being harmed or threatened.

Tony thought of Wendy. She had been with him for a good part of his life. She had shared many memories with him. Some were happy, some painful, some romantic, others tragic. They had always been there for each other so he had to be for her now, too. To be there when she couldn't. To find her murderer and bring them to justice – which Tony hoped to God would require him killing them. He didn't want to think that they might not be able to catch the killer. He needed to. He would do anything to. Anything.

Tony looked out the van's window and realized they were at his apartment. Tony turned a questioning face on McGee that demanded an answer. McGee sensed his confusion and answered his unasked question.

"We're here because I thought you didn't seem to be doing so well after collapsing earlier, so I asked you if you wanted to go here instead and when you didn't answer I called Gibbs and he said it was okay and probably for the best." McGee replied as if it was the most obvious thing.

Tony sighed angrily. Another thing out of his control.

Tony shook his head as he got out of the van and began making his way to his apartment. He heard the click of the van doors locking and he looked over his shoulder to see McGee following him. He sighed again.

"McGee, I don't need some baby-sitter. I'll be fine. They need you at NCIS, anyway. Go. Work."

"Would love to, but I can't." Upon seeing the confusion etched on Tony's face, McGee elaborated. "Gibbs' only condition on taking you here."

Tony rolled his eyes. He wasn't a child. Just because something traumatic happened, it didn't mean someone had to watch him. He would be perfectly fine. He always was.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, McGee sat across from Tony, who was on the chair, on the couch asleep. Tony smiled. It was too easy to bore the younger agent to sleep. He quickly set his escape plan into action. He walked quickly, and cautiously, to his bedroom and got redressed in casual clothes (blue jeans, sneakers, and a black, long-sleeved shirt).<p>

He then walked out of his apartment door, pausing only to take a look back at McGee and smile grimly. When he closed the door, something caught his eye. There was a note taped to the door. It was handwritten; the handwriting all too familiar.

It read:

"Tony—

Hi, sweetie. We haven't spoken in a while (you haven't been taking my calls from prison) and I think we should catch up. And in case you're wondering, it just took now to break out – I'm surprised, too! Anyway, as you know I took care of that bitch, Wendy, for you. Now we can be together.

Love,

The Only One For You"

Tony fell to his knees for the second time that day, one hand pressed against the wall for support. He spent a few seconds willing down the urge to vomit, and slowly stood up, albeit considerably shaky on his feet. He took a deep breath and began the slow walk down the stairs to exit his apartment.

* * *

><p>Two hours later, Tony sat in a small, local pub drinking himself into unconsciousness. He couldn't believe Jessica had killed Wendy. <em>Murdered <em>her in cold blood. He remembered when he first came across Jessica, back in Baltimore.

*_Eleven years earlier*_

_Anthony DiNozzo sat at his and his partner's joined desk as they read over the latest case file. Eight unsolved murders across the east coast: three in New York, two in Boston, two in Miami, and the latest one, in Baltimore._

_Their main suspect was a thirty-two year old woman who had a connection to all of the victims. They had no motive yet, but if they brought her in, they were sure they could connect some evidence to her. They just couldn't find her. _

"_So, Danny, you think we can find her?"_

"_Dunno, she seems really good at hiding and covering her tracks."_

"_Well, let's get started."_

_Three days later, Tony stood in an alley in north Baltimore. Him and the suspect, Jessica, were at a stale mate. Guns drawn and aimed at each other's heads. She was smiling and looked genuinely excited about their situation._

"_Oh my god, you're probably the hottest cop I've ever seen. I like your spunk, too. Maybe we should, you know, go out sometime." She spoke, twirling her hair in her fingers like a nervous sixteen year old on her first date._

"_You're sick, you know that? I have back up on the way and you're gonna be arrested and put in prison for the rest of your life." _

"_What? For murdering eight people? Whatever…I think we should spend more time together. Just the two of us." Tony didn't understand how she could be so twisted._

"_No way in hell!" _

"_Fine, but just remember. I like you. And I'm gonna have you for myself one day." Tony let out a sigh of relief when he heard the wailing of sirens in the distance._

"_Goodbye, Tony."_

_They arrested her that day and she was supposed to be in jail for the rest of her life._

Tony growled in frustration as he downed his next shot of whiskey. The bartender was eyeing him with concern. Tony had had dozens of shots and was swaying slightly in his seat. He was one shot away from cutting him off. He had already taken his keys a while ago, but he was still concerned, nonetheless. Tony came there fairly often. He had just been there the day before and gotten hammered, to do it twice in two nights – something had to be wrong.

When he went to say something, Tony took out his cell phone and called one of the numbers on his speed dial.

He needed to get home and actually get some sleep for once.

He needed to fade away from everything for a while.

Just for one night, and then he'd find her killer.

He would found her no matter what.

He would.

**A/N: All I got so far…any ideas on who he should call out of the team is **_**greatly**_** appreciated!**

**Please Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry if slow updates are annoying, I'm trying to get better but inspiration fluctuates and such so…I hope you enjoy this chapter :D**

"Jimmy Palmer." The younger man on the other end of the phone answered.

"'ey, Jimmmmy, min' doin' me a favor?" Tony slurred slightly, trying in vain to hide his inebriated state until Palmer was there.

"You okay, Tony? You sound weird." Palmer replied, suspicious about his friend's voice/behavior.

"'m fine. Can ya jus' pick me up?" Tony noticed how unbelievably heavy his tongue felt.

There was a sigh on the other end. "Tony, I can tell you're drunk." Tony frowned. It was harder to lie when unable to speak properly in the first place. "Just give me your address."

Tony quickly rattled off the address of the bar and began his wait.

He tried to busy his mind with anything _but_ what had happened. Everything that had happened. Wendy's death, the memories from _that_, Jessica's note, and the horrible memories with _that_. At times like these he just wanted to fade into the background and pretend his life wasn't so fucked up. He wished he had someone he could truly talk to. He could talk to his teammates some, but only so much. They knew Tony: the frat-boy, class clown, womanizing, annoyance. Nobody knew the _real_ Anthony DiNozzo: the quiet, still funny, kind, and tolerable person. He had given up on trying to let anyone in. Abby and Ducky either freak out or pity him, McGee would never believe he _had_ a serious side, Ziva would just say how much worse things could have been, and Gibbs – the no-nonsense "tough as nails" ex-marine would tell him to "cowboy-up", to deal with it, to do anything other than have a "heart-to-heart" with Gibbs. That's probably why he called Palmer.

Palmer had befriended him while he was team leader. When Gibbs left for Mexico and Tony felt more alone and abandoned than ever, Palmer had listened. Palmer had listened and helped. He had made Tony talk to him using kind but determined questioning. The team would probably never understand why he had befriended Palmer instead of them. Palmer was just the best choice for Tony. Also, the autopsy gremlin seemed to enjoy his company as well. He had opened up to Tony a bit every time Tony did. They would exchange memories and they even went so far as to keep a tally if one shared twice in a row. It was silly and probably slightly childish, but they enjoyed it. Palmer wasn't always as happy and outgoing as he was now and it gave them something in common.

Tony and Palmer hadn't really been hanging out as much recently. Things were busy, Palmer was getting _married_. A part of Tony knew he would always envy Palmer slightly. He had fallen in love and was going to get married. Tony didn't show his jealousy at all though. He was always supporting him and making sure the younger man wasn't getting too stressed out. It was nice sometimes to hear about and focus on someone else's problems, no matter how trivial they were. Palmer seemed to understand, too. Tony's need to assist him and make sure that Palmer was happy as well. They were constantly looking out for each other.

Tony glanced at his watch. It had been five minutes. Only five frickin' minutes. Damn.

He heard loud cheering erupting from the corner of the room, and he looked over to see several tough looking men surrounding a lone, battered dart board. There was one man: tall, thick muscles, black sleeveless shirt, silver chain around his neck, tight blue jeans – _biker_ the profiler in Tony answered Tony's unasked question. Interested, Tony sauntered, rather stumbled, over to the dart board's gang.

"Becha, I can ge' a bull's eye." (Betcha, I can get a bull's eye) Tony grinned. Regardless of being on his jolly way to pass-out-drunk, he bet he could still win at darts. Well, drunk darts.

The men laughed as the tall, biker from before handed him a dart.

"Becha twen'y," (Betcha, twenty) Tony added, indicating an actual bet to take place. A few of the men laughed him off, while a few put down twenties. Tony did as well, and prepared to take his shot.

Bull's eye. The second he let go of the dart he knew where it was headed.

Right in the tall, biker's eye. Tony was only grateful Tall Biker (as he dubbed him) caught it before it made contact with his eye. Tall Biker, however, wasn't so relieved. Tony watched frightfully as Tall Biker began closing in on him, all bystanders forming a tight circle to watch, which, although not the original intention, also prevented almost anyone from breaking up the oncoming fight. Tall Biker swung his _humungous_ fist at Tony's face.

Tony fell to the ground after the sudden force against his forehead and eye. For a split second, nothing hurt. Then the pain came.

"Augh…" Tony groaned. A few of the men behind Tony grabbed his arms and hauled him back up. Tall Biker was patiently waiting with a sadistic smile on his face. Tony staggered slightly when the other men dropped their hold on his arms, but he quickly recovered. He swung at Tall Biker and hit the man across the jaw, causing Tall Biker to stagger backward a few steps. When he went for another swing, he stumbled and the men jumped apart to allow Tony to fall right on a wooden table.

By this point, the bartender was fighting his way through the crowd and physically dragging Tony out onto the street and Tall Biker out the back exit.

"Tony, you're a regular patron here, but I can't have you pickin' fights at my bar. I've gotta clean all that up now!" The bartender, Nicholas Sirinakis, complained angrily.

He liked Tony, and being an ex-cop he understood the…hardships being any kind of law enforcement agent or detective brought. Nicholas left feeling kind of sorry for the younger man yet still annoyed.

Tony sat on the curb for five or so more minutes (he wasn't really sure, his sense of time was a little messed up at the time) and then Palmer pulled up. Tony wasn't sure how he would explain this one. _Well, _Tony thought, _maybe the truth would suffice this time._

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of…main plot related stuff but I thought this was a nice chapter anyway…also, sorry for the shortness, I'm still trying to get better at that…Anyway, please review! Any comments are welcome and encouraged. Love it? Comment! Hate it? Comment! Suggestions? Comment! **

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter, though! X3**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Well 9x15 Secrets (the new episode) officially made this an AU so…yeah. I guess I have a little more freedom to deviate from canon now :3**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

Palmer stepped out of his car, locked it, and walked to the front of the bar. He was about to open the door when he glanced in Tony's direction;his eyebrows scrunched together as he made his way over to his drunken, injured friend.

"Did you get into a _bar fight_?" Palmer asked incredulously.

Tony was a good fighter, there was no question about that, but rarely did Tony go out of his way to start a fight. He hoped to God that this fight was accidental as well; Tony had been acting strange enough lately, he didn't want to have to add "reckless and violent behavior" to the list. Keepingthis information in mind, Palmer was curious as to why Tony looked so depressed and despondent. The combination of alcohol and adrenaline which started the fight should have had the opposite effect on his friend.

"Yeah, I did, Jimmy. Nah really sure who won though…." Tony drunkenly added as an afterthought. He continued, "The figh' didn' las' long though…Tall Biker probably woulda won if we kep' going though. Bu' I wouldn' have stopped." Tony smiled widely.

Palmer sighed. "Come on, let's get you home." Palmer reached out an arm for Tony to use for support as he stood.

Tony grasped Palmer's forearm and Palmer noticed that DiNozzo managed to not rely too heavily on him as he stood. Staggering slightly, Palmer steadied Tony by putting a hand on each of his shoulders. Tony mumbled a quick apology as they walked toward Palmer's car. Palmer fished his keys out of his right pants pocket and unlocked his car. As he walked to the driver's side of his car, he kept a watchful eye on Tony to make sure he had no trouble getting in.

Once they were onto the road, Tony was oddly silent. At first the silence was comfortable, but it gradually grew awkward and Palmer found it very disconcerting. Tony was usually very talkative – granted he wasn't as talkative as his team thought he was, but he was talkative – and this long period of silence was strange with Tony in his presence. It did, however, bring back memories.

XXX

"_As you know, he's back." Tony began, stretching his legs out on the coffee table in front of his couch as he did so._

"_Yeah," Palmer replied, smiling and sitting beside him on Tony's couch._

"_I should be happy, right? And I am – don't get me wrong – it's just…it was weird and…really rude. Of course, with Gibbs, what can ya expect?" Tony spoke, with a certain angry edge to his voice._

"_What did he do?" Palmer asked, worried for his friend and ready to take his side in anything._

"_He just showed up. No warning. No nothing. We just walk in and there he is with all his stuff back at **his **old desk, like he never fuckin' left. It's like he doesn't even care that I kept the team together without him. He doesn't care that I worked my ass off trying to adjust to my new job. He doesn't **care** that he hurt all of us – including me. He doesn't fucking care that he's not the boss anymore, and that he left all of us, and that he didn't even **bother** to tell me ahead of time that I would be going back to being Senior Field Agent again…It just sucks. I idolized him and all I get for that was to have him ripped from my life and then thrown back in just as I got used to having my old team. _

"_I am glad he's back, but it's going to take a lot of work for him to repair our relationship now…and frankly, I'm not sure he cares enough to try."_

XXX

The silence that followed Tony's declaration seemed eternal, it lasted over an hour. Both were lost in their own thoughts and neither needed to voice any of them aloud, for their faces showed their emotions for them.

Suddenly, a thought hit him.

"Wait…wasn't Agent McGee supposed to be watching you?" he inquired suspiciously.

The smile was evident even though Tony tried to hide it with his hand. He was obviously proud of sneaking past the Probie…or maybe he was just happy he got more ammunition to mock McGee with.

"Well, he _obviously_ wasn't as competent at that as he thought."

Palmer shook his head but couldn't help the amused smirk that graced his visage. Tony's antics - towards the team, Abby, Ducky, Vance, and even him at times – never ceased to amuse him.

A few minutes later, Palmer parked his car in Tony's apartment's parking lot. He was relieved to at least see that Tony seemed to have lost his drunken slur from earlier, perhaps the cold air had sobered him. At least he had more of a chance of hiding his inebriation from McGee. Palmer exited his car and Tony did the same. He hovered beside and slightly behind Tony in case he stumbled and fell. They rode the elevator up to Tony's floor. He watched Tony hesitate slightly before he turned around, pressing his index finger to his lips in a plea of silence. Palmer acquiesced and made the motion of "zipping his lips". Tony grinned as he silently opened his front door; the ME's assistant was always amazed with Tony's wide range of talents.

Tony tip-toed onto his carpet as if it were covered in land mines, the only sound was the slight creaking of the floorboards which itself was barely noticeable. Palmer watched as Tony's body tensed and he began to back up. He watched as the door opened fully and Gibbs' annoyed face was revealed.

Palmer's own eyes widened as he as well began to back up. He heard Tony stutter helplessly for a second, sounding suspiciously like a certain Probie, before being pulled back into his apartment by his boss. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly making him look similar to a fish out of water. He was pointing to the elevator in a silent plea to be rescued. Gibbs took pity on the younger man and nodded his head towards the elevator while his eyes portrayed what didn't need to be said aloud: I'll deal with you later.

Palmer shot a sympathetic grimace to Tony as he walked to the elevator. He watched the plea in Tony's eyes disappear as he put up another wall from someone close to him.

XXX

"DiNozzo," Gibbs began, his voice dangerously low. "where the hell were you? You were _supposed_ to be here with McGee watching you. You think you're a teenager again? Sneaking out to go drinking at night. 'Cause you're not. You should tell someone before you go running off somewhere."

Without the alcohol, there was no way in hell Tony would say what he said next.

"Yeah, Gibbs, I know I'm not a teenager again. And how did you know I was drinking? Never mind, what matters is – I'm a full-grown, responsible adult. I don't need McGee – or anyone – watching over me! I'm fine on my own!"

Gibbs' glare intensified and Tony immediately regretted what he said.

"Well, Tony," Tony cringed since the only times Gibbs used his first name were when he was comforting him, or furious at him. "Obviously you're not responsible and you _do_ need someone watching you or you would still be sober and be sleeping right now. I thought I taught you better than that." Any other time, Tony would be grateful Gibbs sent McGee home so he wasn't there when he got yelled at, but now, he was just hurt by Gibbs' cruel words.

Tony would never -_never_- admit that he was somewhat sensitive when it came to his boss, but, sadly, he was. Gibbs' words sent a sharp pain through his heart.

Gibbs was disappointed in him.

Gibbs….was disappointed in _him_.

Gibbs was disappointed in **him.**

Tony shook his head as he muttered a quick apology and walked over to his couch and sank down into the worn, black leather.

He heard Gibbs' sigh; perhaps his boss had finally realized that he couldn't seem to get his point across without hurting people. Maybe that's why Gibbs opted to be a functional mute.

**A/N: Maybe I'm a sadist (I am) but I love a hurt/drunk/depressed Tony. It'd be so cute in canon! Anyway, hope you enjoyed and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Wow, it's been a while since I updated…Gomen, minna…**

**Anyway, onwards to Tony Angst!**

As Tony slowly awakened,the first thing he noticed was the sickeningly strong aroma of fresh coffee. The second thing his hungover mind registered was that he had been an _idiot_ the night before. He had a somewhat decent reason, not that it would matter with Gibbs. What was he supposed to do when the saying "you can't outrun your past" made a reappearance in his life? He wanted to stand up to Gibbs and insist the perfectly legitimate point that he was an adult! Yet he knew that particular argument would end in either the mother-of-all-head-slaps or more likely, having to do the whole team's paperwork for several months.

Tony let out a deep sigh, realizing a second too late that he probably shouldn't have alerted his pissed off boss that he was awake. Maybe if he just rolled over and regulated his breathing again, Gibbs wouldn't notice…

"You're awake." Gibbs voice cut through Tony's thoughts and he grimaced slightly at being caught. Gibbs' sentence was clearly a statement and didn't pose any question and yet Tony knew better than to pretend he didn't hear it.

"Yeah, boss. Wide awake." Tony finished his sentence with a long yawn.

He felt like crap. His head was pounding because of his hangover, his eye was swollen causing his vision to be slightly obscured, and his back felt like someone decided to use it as a trampoline. Maybe getting into a fight with someone who was probably twice his weight and a good head taller wasn't a smart idea after all. Who would have guessed?

Tony sat up on his couch and looked down to see a blanket still covering his legs. He felt a small smile tugging at his lips and felt his anger at the older man vanish. Despite his idiotic actions and words, Gibbs still cared. Tony knew that he always would. The SFA quickly wiped the smile off his face as he stood up and entered the lion's den.

XXX

Gibbs watched from his spot in Tony's kitchen as his senior field agent sat up on his couch. He couldn't see Tony's face, but Gibbs could tell the second Tony put his game face back on. His somewhat relaxed shoulders suddenly became tense and when he stood up and made his way towards Gibbs, his face was impassive with a slight hint of apprehension.

Some days, Gibbs just wished he could see the real Tony. He wanted to see the Tony that he had caught small glimpses of in the past, but never seen for longer than a few minutes at a time. The team leader wanted to actually catch a glimpse of what was actually inside Anthony DiNozzo, Jr.'s head.

"If you're gonna ream me out, can you do it here and not in the office?" Tony quietly requested.** "**Because, last time you did that I had to walk with my head down for a week and actually got a sympathy card from another agent and….you're enjoying my rambling aren't you?"

Gibbs smirked at Tony's incessant talking. The younger agent often rambled when he was nervous and Gibbs found it amusing whenever he witnessed it. Dispelling other trivial thoughts from his head, Gibbs quickly brought himself back to the conversation.

"Why did you even go out in the first place?" Gibbs inquired.

Gibbs watched Tony shift his stance a little bit under the harsh scrutiny of his stare. Gibbs knew that Tony had a habit of being able to pull terribly convincing bullshit out of his ass, so he began formulating other ways to get answers out of his SFA.

Gibbs sensed the change in Tony almost as soon as it happened. The older man had been afraid that Tony would make up some random excuse and he was even more afraid that he would accidentally fall for it. But Gibbs could tell that Tony planned on telling the truth; the most telling sign being that Tony looked nervous and maybe even scared.

"Um, well, I received a letter from a…" Tony paused, eyes flickering across the marble floor as if physically searching for the words. "…well, you can read it yourself if you want." Without further adieu, Tony pulled the short letter out of his jacket pocket and handed it to the older agent.

Gibbs looked at the letter and then looked questioningly back up into Tony's eyes. Tony raked his right hand through his hair before nodding reluctantly. Gibbs' gaze lingered a second longer before he returned his attention to the letter and unfolded it carefully, revealing the equally careful calligraphy on the paper.

As soon as he finished reading the brief letter, Gibbs spoke again.

"Who is this, anyway?" Gibbs questioned, concerned for his senior field agent.

"Her name's Jessica Morrison. She was incarcerated for multiple charges of first degree murder. I had the…_pleasure_," the single word was laced with far too much sarcasm than should have been possible, "of arresting her myself back in Baltimore."

Gibbs' face showed of impassiveness veiling his anger at this Jessica person. He hated serial killers and he _really_ hated serial killers who broke out of prison. What truly bothered the Marine was this particular murderer was killing again under the delusion that Tony loved her.

Gibbs tore himself away from those continuously darkening thoughts; they weren't helping anyone. Forcing himself back to the present moment, he went back into "boss-mode".

"We need to get to the office and get on top of this case before she attempts to make contact or strike again." Gibbs began walking to the door of Tony's apartment and was at the door by the time he finished his sentence.

"Yeah, boss." Tony added, and Gibbs nodded once before exiting the apartment.

XXX

Tony waited until Gibbs left his apartment before he let out a deep sigh. He really didn't think he could last the whole day at the office but he also knew he didn't have a choice. He'd just have to go through the motions; it wasn't even hard anymore, it was more like second nature. Maybe that wasn't such a good thing.

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Tony began to get ready for another day in front of the probing eyes of NCIS employees.

A few minutes later as he was driving to the Navy Yard, Tony's cell phone rang in his jacket pocket. The agent kept a hand firmly gripping the steering wheel as he reached into his pocket to answer his phone. Tony cringed at the lit-up name on the screen before flipping it open to answer.

"Hey, Abs. I meant to call you – I swear! I just…got distracted," Tony supplied lamely as he turned the phone on speaker and placed it in the cup holder beside him.

"Anthony DiNozzo! I told you to call me and you went out and got drunk – without me, at that! And-"

"Wait, wait, wait, how do you know what I did last night?"

"McGee told me and Ziva this morning, but that's not important, are you okay, Tony?"

"But how did McGee know what I was doing? Did Gibbs tell him?"

"Yeah, but just answer my question!"

"Don't worry, Abs, I'm fine, just a little worse for wear; a little sore. I'm fine."

"Okay…" Abby didn't sound convinced, but Tony knew that he needed to focus more on what he would say to McGee and Ziva, than the more understanding forensic scientist.

**A/N: **

**1) Quick side-note, is anyone else not receiving updates from about new chapters of fics and stuff? Because I'm not getting them anymore :/ If anyone has any info on this that would be awesome!**

**2) Okay, yeah not much but I promise you that I will make the chapters longer and have more content soon, I just have a horrible schedule right now. :/ Anyway, hope you enjoyed and please review!**


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